


sleepless in transit

by arcticmonk



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adult Content, Friends to Lovers, Implications of Top Niall, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Slash, Smut, first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2145933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcticmonk/pseuds/arcticmonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Niall can't sleep, Harry comes through with a brilliant suggestion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleepless in transit

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first shot at 1D/One Direction fanfic. Apologies for any mistakes with the Britspeak. Suggestions and corrections welcome.

Tour veterans that they are by now Niall knows what to expect of this tour more than others. Packing's down to a science, whittling time in his schedule for Skype back home clumsy as ever but manageable. He's even got better coping mechanisms now for the crowds that bloom from nowhere shove push and make his chest feel as though it's tightly on fire. The fly-him-by memories are no match for him and camera now though they once would have been neglected. And more than ever he realizes the importance of grounding himself in the moment. He always takes a moment to just breathe it all in. To hold onto camera flashes waving posters screaming fans and sometimes tear streaked sometimes jubilant faces for a long as he can. Won't last forever after all. What he doesn't think he'll ever get accustomed to are the nights when the buzz of it all lingers in his bones and hums through his joints. Those nights when he can't sleep even a wink.

As the tour bus eats up the road between where they've been and where they're going Niall's far more awake than any of the other lads. He sits in the kitchen area in his rumpled joggers. His hair tangled and tousled at new unfashionable angles. Newly peeling sunburn apparent on bare, freckled shoulders. Slumped to scrunched between table and bench-seat as he is he shouldn't have much room to do anything at all. But somehow he's found a way to tuck guitar in. Half an eye on the road, his fingers move seemingly at their own volition. Fiddling out bits of tune. Chords that build to nowhere.

"Still awake there, Nialler?" A husky voice blurred around the edges with recent sleep. He shouldn't start. The sound of those lulled murmurs is as familiar as his own breathing. But he does anyway. And so fixes Harry with a playful sneer as he slides into the bench opposite.

"What's this sneakin' about? Got me jumpin' out of my own skin here, Styles." But a smile starts. Out of all the lads he's managed to form a near seamless friendship with Harry is the easiest to get on with. They know one anothers moods and ways. Can say a million things with just a quirk of a brow or slide of the eyes. Delightful for them. Hell for most interviewers. "Gonna have to toss a bell on you with you creepin' as you do. But yeah, still awake as I ever was. Tossed and turned for a bit but--" He uses a shrug to denote how futile _that_ was.

"Some reason I thought you'd got past all that sleeplessness." Harry scratches the side of his nose. He looks cozy somehow with his hair wild and his face still soft from sleep. His shirt and too big joggers all wrinkled and twisted in places. Niall simultaneously wishes he hadn't woken up and is glad to have his company. "Ever thought 'bout doin' somethin' more 'bout it? Maybe have a wank?"

Niall's not used to pulling his laughter. When he finds something delightful he does so with his head back, his eyes crinkled. He claps his hands or doubles over or stamps a foot. Niall laughs as he feels anything. With his whole self. But for the sake of their sleeping tourmates he has to stifle this particular burst with a hand. "Are you dense or what? Like it's never occurred to me to give it a pull to get knackered. Fuckin' muppet y'are, Haz."

The smile Harry gives him is equal parts patient and sly. Niall almost misses it as he shakes his head, looking back to his guitar. "No, mate. Think you misunderstand. I meant. Ever thought t' have a wank with _me_."

He misses a chord and stills the guitar strings quickly. So the discordant sound wakes no one else.

"You takin' the piss?"

Embarrassment has always been a bit beyond him. In fact, Niall rather likes playing the tool. Getting a laugh, being none too serious so long as he can get away with it. While others would prefer to shirk life's humiliations he sees nothing better than to make a little fun. Especially if it's of himself. 

But now he has a flash of uncertainty that he doesn't much like. As though Harry might know something about his own guest appearances in some of Niall's more scandalizing dreams. These he's always dismissed as hormonal teenage fodder. Never guessing he should bother thinking of them in waking hours. Certainly he knows Harry has his certain proclivities but--

"It's near to three AM by the clock and you're wonderin' if I'm havin' a laugh."

"So, you're serious."

The shrug is noncommittal as Harry stands from his seat. So casual and unassuming that Niall almost assumes he really is being put on. Almost goes back to playing his nonsensical catches of melody. Then the taller boy looks over a shoulder. Rakes a tangle of rogue curls out of his face. "Well come on then if you're comin'."

In the back of the bus all is still.

Someone's earphones are producing the tinny small sounds of a slow brand of indie rock. The smooth ride allows for uninterrupted movement to Harry's bunk. They might as well be to themselves it's so quiet. Niall hears as much as feels his heart thudding in his ribcage like a fist-sized rock. His fingers tremble as, per Harry's gestured instruction, he pulls the curtain. Shut off from the world like this, burrowing in to make the most of their limited space, he really takes the time to look at his mate. Harry, whose sleepy eyes seem more alert now. Tracking the rigidity of Niall's half-hard cock in his joggers no less.

A few thoughts towards explanation occur to Niall. A feeling like maybe he should say why he's caved so quickly. "Harry, listen--"

"'S'alright. Don't have t' tell me anything. Natural that. Plus." Steady and sure, Harry fits his hand around him. With two considering slides Harry works out what he's meant to say. "Hard to resist when you haven't even got pants on."

"Well, I mean." His breath catches, goes. His mouth falls open as that grip tightens, steadies away from something contemplative and into something rhythmic and good. With a clumsy shift he drags himself closer still. Fumbling fingers pluck at a drawstring, work their way into the give of loosened waistband. His hair tickles under Harry's chin. He feels the throaty rumbling murmur when he gets his hand around him, making the angle work for them both. "Ah-- Fuck. " His toes curl when Harry tightens his grip in response. Tight when the skin slides slick over head, loose near the base. Dizzily quick he's becoming putty. "Don't resist then. Don't. Have t' do anything rash, huh?"

His whispers quiver on their way out. Every swallow seems loud enough to rouse Zayn above them or Liam across the way but he has a difficult time caring. More difficult still when he realizes that, with rutting hips and newly pre-come slick fist, Harry is matching him pace for pace. Niall's mouth closes in on Harry's exposed collarbone. His teeth touch to pinch when he feels Harry's wet mouth at his ear. Feels the flick of tongue and then hears the words themselves. Incendiary.

"Want you to think about if it was more'n jus' this. If you got the chance to fuck me hard and sure as you're fuckin' my hand. Think about if you got to pull my hair and bite my shoulders and fuck me like you owned me, Niall. Think 'bout how that'd make you feel. How that'd make _me_ feel."

He thinks about it alright. How gladly Harry'd take him. How patient he'd be when Niall needed it. How cheeky he'd be otherwise. How his back might bow and his teeth might clench. How there wouldn't be a question of what was said with Harry begging Niall to fuck him and fuck him hard. Somewhere sheets rustle. A sleepy mumble doesn't quite reach coherence. And the build has been so quick and so sudden. So urgent and hard to ignore. That that's all it takes.

Usually he'd curse and jabber with no care about the consequences but Harry's mouth crushes to his before he can quite make a sound. Swallowing the noise and sealing in a promise. 

The massage of Harry's tongue is a dream come true as the world bottoms out. Hot, wet and new. Striking the perfect balance between aggression and want. Niall focuses on that -- kissing and kissing hard -- as he feels his whole self come undone from the seams. Niall's body tightens then loosens all in one go, his hips insistent in their plunging ceaseless shifting. Somewhere in the thick of things Niall's hand has fallen out of sync and pushed away, has cinched itself vice tight into Harry's t-shirt as the other lifts to clutch hold of the back of Harry's neck. Harry's response to the loss is better than what came before. Their hips wedge roughly together when he rocks close, squeezing Niall's hip hard enough to bruise. Quick dirty clumsy they thrust and nudge and bump against each other. Harry's thigh coaxing out the last that Niall has even as Harry too begins to fall apart. Niall shaking, whining uninhibited in the end.

Dimly Niall's aware of murmuring Harry through the rest. Of kissing Harry's face and petting him from chest to stomach. And at last he can only watch unchecked, fascinated, as Harry's eyes screw up and he breathes hoarse obscenities. Their foreheads knock together. Niall kisses Harry's parted mouth, recycles one shaky breath to him after another as the tide falls from dull roar to occasional pulse and then closer to still.

When finally Harry begins to settle, Niall's own pulse is softening a wild racing thing. He watches Harry come down from it with a new haze in his own eyes. Welcomes Harry's blind kisses along his cheek and finally his mouth. This last Niall accepts eager but slower than the kiss previous. Already he feels sluggishness pulling at him at last. "Alright then?" 

"More'n alright." Harry sounds sleepier than ever. As cozy as he looked moments ago. He also sounds as though he has a new, wonderful secret. "Though. I do think I should be the one askin' you that."

They've touched on this only once before. Whether Niall likes girls and girls only or some delicious mingled mix of gender. Yet he doesn't feel unnerved by this happening as it has. In fact, Niall is in no rush to break the trance. He even has a moment of dread when Harry stirs away from him. But it's for the necessary only, thank fuck. To grab up an old t-shirt to mop them both up.

"Maybe not. I feel fuckin' aces." So aces that Niall almost has to talk himself down from new excitement when Harry lingers, really taking his time with cleaning up under his joggers. Useless that they are now Niall budges up to slide them down as soon as he's finished. To hell with pants and everything else. Bothering with only Harry's sheets and laying right up under him sounds ideal right then.

" _Fuckin' aces_ ," Harry repeats. Really winding up to rib him apparently. "I'd hope so. Blowin' your load like that. Didn't even get a chance to give you an oral presentation or the like." Ordinarily, Niall would palm his face or shove a shoulder but now all he can manage is a groan and a none too impressed ' _Wanker_ '. 

To which Harry only beams. 

"The truest of true if memory serves. Get some shut eye now, Sleepin' Beauty."

He barely has time to roll his eyes before Louis' voice reaches them. Irritable and gravelly, an octave low enough to be conspiratorial. "'Bout time, lads. How about you both do?"

Niall doesn't have it in him to be full-fledged embarrassed. Niall feels so good -- so loose and gone -- that all he does is bury his laughter when he rolls himself over. Over into the muted chuckles that move Harry's chest and into the cushion of a sleep long coming.


End file.
